


Sleep, You Need It Rip

by Drogna



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt John Constantine, Hurt Rip Hunter, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Rip Hunter is so Done, RipFic, sleep issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-07
Updated: 2020-06-07
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:07:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24593506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drogna/pseuds/Drogna
Summary: 3+1 - Three times Rip refused to sleep, and one time he wanted to but couldn't.If you're not a fan of John/Rip then just skip the second section of this. The rest of the fic is ship-free.
Relationships: John Constantine/Rip Hunter
Comments: 8
Kudos: 40





	Sleep, You Need It Rip

**Author's Note:**

> Written for my RipFic Bingo Card 2020 RBACL Quarantine Challenge! The squares were: "Sleep, You need it, Rip", "Actual Pirates", "Outnumbered", "Ingenious inventions", and "Someone pretends to be a historical figure".

1\. Why Picking a Fight in a Tavern is a Bad Idea

Getting Rip to sleep had never been easy in Gideon’s opinion. He was like a child that refused to observe his bedtime. She often had to turn the lights out in order to get him to stop working and sleep, and sometimes he had simply turned them back on and kept working. He would tell her that his work was important and drink black coffee to keep himself going until the mission was done.

Her Captain was always too busy for proper sleep. Between missions he visited his family and he wanted to spend every moment he could with them, so she knew he slept as little as possible when he was home. He took his turn with late night feeding and settling the baby in the small hours, because for him that was something precious that he rarely got to do. He sat up late with Miranda, talking and drinking the good red wine that he brought back as a gift. Every second he had with Miranda was to be savoured.

Sleep got in the way. It didn’t matter that he had to collapse sometimes, and just pass out for a few hours. That was only allowed occasionally. Gideon had witnessed her Captain pushing the boundaries for years, despite her best efforts to get him to be sensible. He did manage patches of normal sleep where his mood improved, he ate better and his brain, already sharp, became like quicksilver. It never lasted though, despite the AI’s efforts.

It was frustrating.

But the problem had only worsened after Miranda and Jonas had died, even after Vandal Savage was dispatched. Which was why she now found herself watching her Captain once again refuse to sleep. This was made a more pressing concern by the fact that he had returned from an excursion only moments ago and was clearly injured.

“Captain, you should report to the medbay,” said Gideon.

“Later,” said Rip, looking over what appeared to be the shipbuilder’s plans for a pirate galleon. “I know that Thanagarian Crystal was hidden on one of these ships. The question is, which one?”

“Did you sleep at all during your investigation?”

“A little,” said Rip.

Which of course meant that he hadn’t, and he just knew better than to outright lie to her.

“You are guarding your right side. That indicates that you have sustained an injury,” said Gideon.

“There was a brawl with some pirates in a local tavern. I may have accidentally become caught up in it…” Rip moved a bit too quickly and winced.

“You should report to medbay and I will perform a scan,” said Gideon.

“I have work to do,” said Rip. “I’ll go to medbay when I’m finished.” He let out a long sigh. “Missions to Cornwall always remind me of that last holiday…”

That gave Gideon a clue to why Rip was currently avoiding sleep. He often had bad dreams when he was reminded of his wife and child. She remembered the holiday well. The family had hired a small cottage and spent a week enjoying a traditional British beach holiday, which included two days of being stuck inside the cottage due to bad weather. The three of them had never been happier as she understood it.

“I remember it well, Captain. However, you have been awake some time and I’m sure Dr Palmer would be happy to examine the plans.”

“Thank you for your concern, Gideon, but I can manage,” replied Rip.

Gideon was familiar with this stage of persuading her Captain to do something. She required help. Miss Lance was doing yoga in her room and was in the middle of her final meditation.

“Miss Lance, Captain Hunter has been working for two days straight and has returned to the Waverider injured. He is currently refusing to go to the medbay.”

Sara opened one eye.

“Usual protocol?” she asked.

“If you wouldn’t mind,” said Gideon. “I have fabricated the necessary items in the galley.”

Sara nodded, and let out a long sigh.

“On my way.”

Gideon watched as Sara collected two mugs of tea from the galley, making sure that she knew which one was hers. Then she took the other through the corridors to the parlour where Rip was working.

“Hey, Rip, I brought you tea,” said Sara, putting the mug down on the table.

Rip eyed it with suspicion.

“Did Gideon send you?”

“She may have mentioned that you were running on fumes and should, perhaps, be in the medbay,” said Sara. “You told me this was just intelligence gathering. We’ve had conversations about you going out alone before. You’re not on your own anymore, Rip.”

“I didn’t anticipate a bar fight with a bunch of Cornish pirates in a tavern,” said Rip, turning over the ship plan to reveal a couple of pieces of what looked like a treasure map.

“I’ve heard it before, Rip. No more going it alone,” said Sara, sipping her own tea.

“We’re close, Sara. I think I’ve found the anomaly that might indicate Thanagarian technology, if I can just interpret this treasure map,” said Rip, looking down again.

“That’s an excuse, not an answer,” said Sara.

“Fine,” replied Rip, tersely. “I’ll take one of you with me next time.”

“Drink your tea, you’ll feel better,” said Sara.

Rip rolled his eyes but reached for the mug and drank. Gideon saw Sara quickly stifle a smile.

“Go on then, talk me through what you’ve found,” said Sara, probably realizing that this was going to be a short conversation now.

“Well, as you know, we’re looking for anything that could point towards the whereabouts of Anne Bonny, given that her movements are not well documented in history. The problem is that she is evidently important in history even if we don’t know a lot about her from historical… sources,” Rip stopped, and shook his head, probably feeling the effects of the drug in his tea. "This is her... map."

Sara moved a little closer and put down her own mug of tea, just watching the Captain of the Waverider.

“Sara…” he blinked. “Did you…? Gideon! Bollocks…”

Rip gripped the edge of the table.

“Please catch him, Miss Lance,” said Gideon.

Sara got behind Rip just in time for him to lose his hand hold and for him to collapse to the floor, guided down carefully by Sara. His eyes had fallen shut and he was definitely asleep.

“Sorry, Rip,” said Sara. “I’m going to need a hand getting him to the medbay, Gideon.”

“Mr Rory is already on his way,” said Gideon. “I don’t like to use this method of getting him to rest, but when he is injured and refusing to listen, it is occasionally necessary. I failed to see another option here.”

Sara smiled up at Gideon’s avatar as it appeared above the console.

“Don’t worry, Gideon, he’ll get over it,” said Sara. “I’ll keep a better eye on what he’s up to next time. I can’t do much about the way he refuses to sleep, but I can at least make sure he doesn’t head off on solo missions.”

“Thank you, Miss Lance,” said Gideon, with gratitude. She needed her Captain to start taking better care of himself.

*

2\. Outnumbered but not Outdone

John Constantine was unconscious when they moved him to the Waverider’s medbay. His body was covered in cuts, some deep and others shallow, but the blood loss was substantial and he was in hypovolemic shock.

Rip fastened the cuff around the warlock’s pale wrist.

“Gideon, he’ll need a transfusion,” said Rip.

“Yes, Captain,” she said, and scanned the unconscious man to determine his blood type and if other treatment was required. “His wounds will also need closing.”

“I’ll do it,” said Rip, locating the dermal regenerator.

“I can take care of it, Captain,” said Gideon.

“No, I’d rather do this myself,” said Rip.

The AI watched as her Captain removed Constantine’s shirt carefully and began the process of healing the substantial number of slashes that had been cut into his flesh. Some of the cuts seemed to form a pattern, which Gideon’s databanks told her was part of a ritual to drain magical energy. Given what she knew of the situation, that fitted with Constantine’s injuries.

Constantine had come on board desperate for help because his friend Zed had been kidnapped by some unknown force who had decided to hide out in an unknown time period. The Legends had spent some days tracking her down, with John getting increasingly agitated and angry. He and Rip spent most of the time together in the library, with Rip trying to calm down the other Brit between their research efforts. They eventually found her, about to be used as a human sacrifice in Argentina by a group of warlocks called the Brujeria.

Unfortunately, during the rescue the Brujeria had seriously outnumbered the Legends. They had summoned creatures that John called “invunche” - weird, twisted, humanoid monsters created by the Brujeria. By the accounts of the Legends, John and Rip had stood back to back killing the monsters, Rip with his revolver and John with his hellfire. The Legends had managed to reach them, but not before one of the monsters had grabbed John and taken him to its Brujeria masters.

The Brujeria managed to spirit John away to some other location in the ensuing chaos of their withdrawal back to the Waverider. Rip was livid and blamed himself for the mistake in their planning that had led to John’s capture. This was particularly unfortunate because Gideon was almost certain that Rip had recently slept with John, and whilst their conversations indicated that both regarded it as a casual liaison, their body language said something else entirely. This made her Captain even more invested in finding the warlock than he would have been anyway.

Zed was certain that John was alive, stating that she would have felt it if he wasn’t. It still took them another two days to piece together the clues to find John, and for Zed to recover sufficiently that she could use Rip’s crystal ball to focus her clairvoyance and get a precise location. Rip didn’t sleep at all during that time, emulating John’s earlier agitated and gruff mood.

When the Legends stormed the shrine that the Brujeria were holding Constantine in, it was clear that he hadn’t been treated well. Magic users like John were useful commodities to evil sorcerers, and they had been weakening him, ready to drain his magical energy. That had apparently involved slowly draining him of his blood on a stone altar, and creating new cuts every so often in order to keep the blood flowing.

Gideon had not personally been present at the rescue, but she had received a number of second-hand accounts from the Legends, of varying accuracy. The points that they all agreed on was that none of them ever wanted to get on Rip’s bad side when he was in righteous fury mode. Rip had dismantled the entire organization, so at least they wouldn’t have to worry about them again.

“This is my fault,” Rip said to his AI, as he completed the task of closing the many wounds and put the dermal regenerator away.

“I don’t believe that to be the case,” said Gideon.

“I’m the Captain. It’s always my fault if one of my crew ends up in here,” said Rip, as if that explained his lack of logic.

She understood the sentiment, even if it was blatantly untrue. She refrained from also pointing out that, strictly speaking, Mr Constantine was not a member of the Waverider’s crew.

“Mr Constantine will make a full recovery,” said Gideon. “I am replacing his lost blood volume and rest is all he requires.”

“Thank you, Gideon,” said Rip.

John let out a small groan, opened his eyes and blinked at Rip. His eyes darted around the room, his heart rate rising. After only a brief hesitation, Rip reached out and took his hand.

“John, you’re on the Waverider. You’re going to be fine,” said Rip.

Constantine’s eyes rested on her Captain’s face and the corners of his mouth turned up with relief. His heart rate began to stabilize, and Gideon decided that she would not need to deploy more drugs to help him.

“I feel terrible,” murmured John, his accent becoming more Liverpudlian due to tiredness and injury.

“That’s not surprising. You nearly got yourself used as a magical battery,” said Rip. “Please don’t do that again.”

“Try not to,” he said, his voice still rough and weak.

Gideon saw the weak squeeze that the warlock managed of Rip’s hand.

“You’d think I’d get at least a kiss after coming back from the dead,” said John.

Rip actually gave him a small smile, and then leaned down and kissed him on the lips.

“You weren’t even close to dying,” Rip replied.

The fact that his voice held a slight tremor showed how concerned he had been, but neither man commented on that. If they hadn’t got John back to the Waverider rapidly then things would have been much worse, but the Legends had him delivered to the medbay in plenty of time. Her Captain was supposed to be happy now, not still upset.

Rip sat down next to the bed, tiredness exuding from every pore.

“You look knackered,” said John.

“You’re a fine one to talk,” replied Rip, looking at the patient on the couch with mild amusement.

“I’ve got an excuse,” replied John, regarding Rip with a critical eye.

“So have I,” said Rip, indignantly. “I’ve been rather too occupied with rescuing first Zed and then you.”

John blinked.

“You haven’t slept all this time?” asked the warlock.

Rip just shrugged.

“I’m fine. Gideon has given me the good drugs,” said John. “Go sleep, you wanker.”

“Later,” said Rip.

John said a series of words that even Gideon couldn’t translate, his free hand held up, feebly, in Rip’s direction.

“B’stard…” Rip whispered, still managing to get considerable venom into the half-formed word.

Her Captain’s eyes closed as he slumped forwards, resting his torso on the medbay couch, and head on Constantine’s lap. Rip was breathing deeply and seemed to be fast asleep.

“Sorry, mate, but you really do need to sleep,” said John, almost tenderly. “And so do I. Gideon, can you get someone to take this twat and put him in his own bed?”

John’s eyes were closing again. The blood loss would probably mean he was tired for a while to come as his body readjusted itself.

“Of course, Mr Constantine,” said Gideon. “I will also endeavour to keep him away from medbay until you are more recovered and have the required strength with which to deal with his annoyance.”

“Much appreciated, love.”

With that both Englishmen slept, hands still linked, at least until Gideon found someone to take her Captain back to his quarters.

*

3\. The Nightmare Zone

Sara smashed the back of a Nightmare creature with her staff, sending it crashing to the deck. Rip fired twice, missing on his first try which was unusual for him and another creature went down. Gideon had begun to notice several of the detrimental effects of long term stimulant use on her Captain, one of which was the issue of reduced coordination.

“We can’t keep this up,” said Sara, also showing the affects of lack of sleep.

“I know,” said Rip.

He had been the least well rested of them when this began. It was only because he’d stayed up late with Sara and Ray that the ship hadn’t been totally lost to this place.

The Time Masters had authorized some limited stimulant usage if it was required in the course of a Captain’s duties. What they had not authorized was days of continuous use, but if you were stuck in the Nightmare Zone and sleep would result in unconsciousness and eventual death, there was little choice in the matter. Professor Stein, Jax and Mr Rory had already succumbed before they had worked out the insidious issue with the area of space that they were stuck in. If that had been their sole problem then things might be going better.

Nightmare creatures, covered in spikes and chitinous armour had also begun materialising inside the Waverider. At first, they had struggled to get through the hull, but now they seemed to be coming in ever increasing numbers. All Sara and Rip could do was try to keep the creatures at bay while Ray worked on a solution to getting them out of the Nightmare Zone.

A blue light suddenly suffused the corridor and the creatures disappeared turning into small pinpoints of light before they too vanished.

“Dr Palmer has managed to extend the shield,” said Gideon.

“We noticed,” said Sara.

“However, he suggests you retreat to the laboratory as he is unsure how long it will hold for at this size,” said Gideon.

“What about medbay?” asked Rip. “We need to protect Jax, Martin and Mick.”

“Dr Palmer seems to think he has a solution to that issue,” said Gideon.

“Very well, we’re falling back,” said Rip.

Sara and Rip cautiously retreated back down the corridor towards the laboratory, but no further creatures presented themselves. Rip stumbled as he entered the Waverider’s laboratory.

“Ray, please tell us you have good news,” said Sara.

Ray suppressed a yawn. He wobbled on his seat a little and had to reach out to the bench to support himself.

“It’s ready. I finished the rephasing module. We just have to get it installed in the Waverider’s systems,” said Ray.

Ray slipped forwards and would have fallen to the floor if it weren’t for Rip catching him. Her Captain reached into his pocket and produced the stimulant injector.

“Captain, you are all at the maximum safe dosage of stimulants. It is inadvisable to give Dr Palmer more,” said Gideon.

Ray’s eyes were closing.

“It’s okay, just get the module installed. I left instructions. You know the Waverider better than anyone,” said Ray, rasping tiredly. “I’ll wake up when we’re out of here.”

“Ray!” said Rip, urgently, but the inventor’s eyes were already shut. “Bloody hell!”

“We just have to do what he says,” Sara pointed out.

They lowered Ray to the ground. Sara put a hand to her own head and her own eyes closed for a moment as she sat down on the deck plating.

“No, Sara! Come on, we just have to get to the engine room and I can’t do it on my own,” said Rip, urgently.

Sara took a deep breath and pushed herself to her feet.

“Okay, I can do this,” she said, determinedly. “I’m running on fumes though.”

“Me too,” said Rip, rubbing at his eyes. “All we have to do is jump out of here and then we can get out of this awful place and sleep.”

Sara nodded, obviously exhausted. She moved out into the corridor, checking that the coast was clear. Rip picked up the device that Ray had been working on and followed her, his revolver drawn and ready to fire if need be. So far, the force field seemed to be holding. Sara stumbled against the wall, but continued on.

They made it to the engine room, just as the blue forcefield glitched and then contracted. A Nightmare creature appeared, and Sara dealt with it by impaling it on her staff, but ended up on her knees, wavering as if blown by a strong breeze.

Rip was beside her in moments, but he was breathing hard, harder than the exertion should have caused. Sara slumped to the ground, and although Gideon still detected a pulse, she had most definitely entered unconsciousness.

“Sara! Come on, wake up!” said Rip, urgently.

The assassin did not move, and her Captain hung his head. Rip removed the stimulant injector from his pocket once more, and calibrated it to the smallest dose possible.

“Captain, I strongly advise against a further dose of stimulants,” said Gideon.

“I understand the risks, Gideon,” said Rip, and pressed the injector to his neck.

He gently lowered Sara to the ground, and made his way to the engine. There was a brightness to his eyes, his pupils blown wide from the additional drug use. He made rapid work of attaching the device that Ray had built, wiring it into the drive circuits with the practiced hand of someone who knew this ship like no one else.

A creature appeared, but Gideon had spotted it.

“Behind you, Captain!” she alerted.

Rip turned and fired, his accuracy returned. Gideon could detect her Captain’s elevated pulse and knew the strain that the additional stimulants were placing on his heart. This wasn’t good for him. He would collapse soon and without medical intervention available, he might never wake up.

He turned back to the engine and made the final adjustments to the drive.

“Gideon, spin up the engines and jump us out of here,” said Rip.

“It appears that one of the creatures has destroyed the necessary control coupling,” said Gideon. “You will have to go to the bridge.”

Rip let out a groan.

“Nothing is ever simple,” he mumbled, taking out his gun again.

He headed out into the corridor, and immediately shot another Nightmare. Ray had named them that after seeing the first one, but then it became clear that the name was appropriate in more than one way after Mr Rory failed to wake up from a nap. Rip moved down the corridor, firing as he went. Gideon could see him flagging again as he made it to the bridge and headed to the control console. He pulled off the panel underneath and found the damaged control coupling. He rapidly spliced two wires together in a rather untidy repair, but it would have to do.

“Try it now, Gideon.”

“Yes, Captain.”

Gideon had already processed the difference in power that the new module provided. She could now move through the barrier surrounding the Nightmare Zone and she wasted no time in doing so. She made the jump and it was the work of minutes before she guided them out into clear, normal space again.

Her Captain leant his back against the console, his heartrate dangerously fast.

“Captain, you should go to medbay,” said Gideon.

Rip laughed, giggled in fact, almost hysterically.

“I fail to see what is so funny,” said Gideon. “Your heartrate it above optimal.”

“I’ve spent the last two days trying not to fall asleep…” said Rip, breathily. “And now I _should_ sleep, but I’m high on stimulants so I can’t.”

Her sensors detected that Jax was stirring in the medbay.

“Mr Jackson is waking up,” said Gideon. “I will ask him to bring you the antidote, and then you can sleep.”

“Thank you, Gideon,” said Rip. “I think I’m still too tired to move, even if I am wide awake.”

“He will be here shortly,” said Gideon, satisfied that her Captain would be able to sleep soon.

Admittedly, she would have to explain to Mr Jackson exactly why there were a number of alien bodies lying around the Waverider’s corridors and various members of the crew were fast asleep on the floors, but she thought she could probably manage that.

*

4\. Robyn Hude

“This may be the most stupid thing you’ve done yet,” said Rip, to the assembled Legends who had gathered around the parlour table. “You cannot go around pretending to be historical figures.”

“Look, no one even knows what he looks like,” said Sara. “It’s not like they had TV back then, or even photographs.”

“That is hardly the point, Sara,” said Rip. “I’m fairly certain that all of the historical data indicates that Robin Hood was British and male.”

“Well, now Robin Hood speaks with an accent and is female,” said Sara, and then grinned. “Still hooks up with Marian though.”

Jax chuckled and gave Sara a quick nudge with his elbow. Sometimes they were like two children, thought Gideon.

“Of course she does,” said Rip, with exasperation. “I have no issue with your choice of sexual partners, but I would prefer it if you would remember that whilst you are able to leave this time period, they are not. I hope that you were at least discreet.”

“We were very careful,” said Sara. “If you’re worried, just get Gideon to look at the timeline and see if anything has changed.”

“Good suggestion,” said Martin. “Gideon?”

“I can confirm that nothing substantial has altered about the legend of Robin Hood. It appears that the patriarchal society of the time was sufficiently biased that despite Miss Lance’s appearance as Robin Hood, he was still described as male in the majority of literature,” said Gideon.

“I don’t know whether to be disappointed or pleased about that,” said Rip.

“A little bit of both here,” said Ray.

“It’s definitely the first time I’ve been pleased to hear that a woman has been written out of an important historical event that she’s been part of, I admit,” said Martin.

“The timeline does come first,” said Rip, a little sadly.

“I guess improving women’s rights will have to wait for another day,” said Sara. “At least we saved King Richard and sent the bad guys packing.”

“Wait,” said Rip. “Gideon, you said the majority of literature…”

“I did,” replied Gideon, enjoying drawing out the suspense.

“That means that it wasn’t all of it,” said Rip. “So explain.”

“A folk tale called _Orygne of Robyne in the Hude_ refers to Robyne with she/her pronouns throughout. This particular tale is considered to be an anomaly, but it has led to a number of screen adaptations of the story choosing to cast Robyn as a woman. This means that actors such as Olivia de Havilland, Audrey Hepburn, Uma Thurman and Mary Elizabeth Mastrantonio have all played the role of the female outlaw, often with a male love interest, but the most recent BBC adaptation featured Anjali Jay as Marian and Lucy Griffiths as Robyn. They made a lovely couple in my opinion,” said Gideon. “This has also had some knock-on effects in other portrayals of Robin Hood, for example in comic books…”

“Yes, thank you, Gideon, I think we get the picture,” said Rip.

“Maybe we did manage to do something for women’s rights after all,” said Martin.

“I’ll take it,” said Sara.

Rip collapsed into one of the leather chairs in the room, clearly frustrated and rather bemused by the entire thing.

“We completed the mission,” said Rip, clearly trying to look on the bright side. “Let’s just focus on that. Which means that we can all have a break, and some time off. I’ll start work on our next mission tomorrow.”

“I’m all for that,” said Jax. “I don’t know about you, but I could do with some sleep.”

There were general nods around the table, and the Legends filed out.

“Hey, that means you too, Rip,” said Jax, before he left the room.

“Yes, I’m heading to my quarters shortly,” replied Rip, getting to his feet.

Jax nodded and then tiredly left to go to his own bed.

“Do you think it’s too late to go back to working alone?” Rip asked his AI.

“Getting them to leave the ship all at once is quite difficult,” said Gideon. “They do have their uses.”

“Like drugging me, casting sleep spells on me or carrying me to bed when I’ve fallen asleep in the parlour?” asked Rip, pointedly.

“If you had a sensible sleeping pattern then I wouldn’t need to ask them to do any of those things,” said Gideon.

“Very well,” said Rip. “I’m taking the hint and going to bed.”

Gideon would have smiled if she were human, but instead she made do with the feeling that she was finally getting through to her Captain. She watched him walk through the corridors of the ship and enter his quarters. He disrobed, dressed for bed and settled down under the covers. He picked up the novel from the bedside table that he was in the middle of and spent about half an hour reading. Finally, he yawned and put the book down again, methodically marking his place with a bookmark.

“Lights, please, Gideon,” said Rip.

She dimmed the lights for him, and he rolled onto his right side, getting comfortable and closing his eyes. He was undoubtably tired, all his body language shouted it. He rolled onto his back a few moments later and let out a long deep breath. He stayed like that for a while and then rolled onto his other side.

A few minutes after that he kicked off the covers, and turned back onto his right side. His attempts to find a comfortable position continued for some time until he finally gave up, staring up at the ceiling. Some nights her Captain just found sleep would not come.

“Are you unable to sleep, Captain?” she asked, quietly.

“It seems that way,” said Rip, sounding quite weary. “Could you…?”

“Of course,” said Gideon.

Soft music began to play, and dim lights started to play across the ceiling. Rip got himself comfortable on his back and Gideon began her guided meditation program. She rarely used her dream monitoring equipment these days, it felt more and more like an intrusion now that she knew the crew. She also no longer felt the need to keep tabs on their intentions. However, her psychic systems could broadcast as well as receive, which was quite useful for some things, and this was one of them.

“Breathe in slowly and let yourself relax,” she said. “Clear your mind for sleep, so tomorrow you will be refreshed and strong. Now, close your eyes.”

She projected an image of a calm lake into her Captain’s mind, one which barely had a ripple across it. She saw the way his mind immediately let go of the day and concentrated on the sound of her voice and the image within. She had a series of images that she would use to soothe him, ones which they had learnt over many sessions worked the best to lull him into sleep.

It wasn’t a rapid process and he had to be willing to let it work. If he fought it then she had never been successful in sending him to sleep, but on nights like tonight when he was already tired, it usually had the desired effect. She continued talking in an even, soft tone and it wasn’t long before his breathing evened out. She faded out the music gently and checked that he was properly asleep, dreaming aimlessly without nightmares.

“Sleep, Rip, you need it,” she said, quietly, to the otherwise silent room, and left him to his dreams.


End file.
